Remember To Forget
by Val-Creative
Summary: They're all ushered into a room full of unlit monitors. No explanation. Ben assumes it's a mission briefing, but then sees Vanya nervously lingering in the back of their group. Something doesn't feel right.


**.**

**.**

They're all ushered into a semi-rounded room, full of unlit monitors. No explanation.

Ben assumes it's a mission briefing, but then sees Vanya nervously lingering in the back of their group. There's only six of them left, five for the team. Number Five has been missing for two years now.

He misses him. They all do, in their own way, but Number Five looked out for him. He encouraged Ben to make _peace_ with the eldritch creatures, to control the bloodlust and didn't make fun of him for having nightmares. For being so scared that Ben would refuse to sleep or else… _they_… would be released.

Diego and Luther jam each other with elbows, mumbling threats. Allison's eyes glaze over with boredom. Ben glimpses Klaus yawning and tossing around a rainbow-colored hacky sack by the wheelie desk-chair.

Probably not a smart idea to cram a bunch of argumentative and cranky teenagers together.

Sir Reginald fiddles with some dials to the monitors, cranking them on until the paled blue light amplifies. Vanya peers over Allison's shoulder, as he does this. The two girls share a bemused look.

"Today we will not be training, but having a _lesson_ in proper conduct," he instructs, popping in a VHS tape. "While you are living under this roof, we will obey simple rules. One of them is not inviting guests _without_ acquiring permission from myself or Dr. Phinneus Pogo, who will rely your inquiry to me."

Luther side-eyes Klaus who lets out a '_pfftt!_' and tosses the hacky sack a little bit higher.

"I want you all to pay strict attention on this example of what not to do."

Feedback static blares in monochrome until Sir Reginald huffs and flips a switch. Now all of the monitors play the same video footage, at the exact same time. Pale and dark blues, but easy to make out.

A video footage version of Klaus, maybe from last year or even a week ago, paces his room, chewing on his thumbnail until an older guy hunkers in through Klaus's window. They're clearly talking, but nobody can hear anything. It's a _surveillance_ tape, Ben realizes in a slow-mounting horror. Holy crap.

(Do… do they _all_ have cameras in their rooms?)

He flinches slightly when they all hear the noise of Klaus's rainbow hacky sack dropping to the ground.

Video!Klaus bats his eyelashes, grinning, pawing the front of the man's tee-shirt. Obviously flirting. The man palms greedily over Klaus's ass in his trousers, using both meaty hands, pulling him in for a sloppy makeout.

"_Whoa_—" Diego breathes out, lurching.

Allison stares in complete disbelief between the footage and their guardian.

"Dad, this isn't—"

"I will have _ABSOLUTE_ silence!" Sir Reginald booms. They've seen him mad, but never like this. A kind of cold, steely fury penetrating from his eyes. Luther stares at his own feet, mouth thinning. Diego's jaw clenches up, his teeth baring, and he spins around, kicking the wall aggressively. Allison's dark brown eyes flood with moistening tears. "You will watch every second and learn."

The more it goes on, the more Ben feels like he's shrinking into himself. Disgusted, but he's more worried about Klaus. Klaus hasn't made a peep, white as a sheet, helpless. He has curled up into the wheelie desk-chair, hiding his face against his knees, Klaus's shoulders visibly trembling.

And that's why Sir Reginald turns the volume up high.

"_How bad do you want it, sweetheart?_"

"_Please_…"

Video!Klaus begs, crooning, getting his uniform-trousers zipped open, shoved down his pale, skinny thighs and gathering to his bare feet, along with his underwear. His tie and undershirt discarded. The man on screen makes Klaus remove his own clothing, his black oil grease-stained jeans and tee. He shows Klaus two tiny baggies of pills and Klaus sighs euphorically, his face lighting up. He bounces on his heels, impatiently reaching for them, and is stopped by the man's mouth mashing against Klaus's lips.

"_You'll get these… after you spread those pretty little cheeks of yours for me…_"

Wasting no time, Video!Klaus arches himself down on the mattress, raising his hips and attempting seductive, but it looks so wrong. He's all skin and bones. The man towers over a naked, giggling Klaus with all of his height. His beer-belly and his pectorals covered with thickened, dark and wiry chest-hair.

Everything flickers when Video!Klaus's fingers prod against his lubricant-slicked rim, sinking in. The man climbs over him and the bedsheets, pressing down, shifting his erect cock to Klaus's hole.

The quality isn't good, and Ben cannot fully express how _relieved_ he is for that. He knew Klaus was sneaking around with older women and men, either for sex or getting money for sex _for drugs_. Ben knew about the empty bottles of liquor under Klaus's bed, and thin, rolled-up joints of weed hidden in his sock drawer.

But… jesus, this is something else entirely.

High-pitched moaning and the sounds of wet, squelching sex echoes through the room. The man finally, _finally_ quits humping against Video!Klaus's scrawny, little ass, pulling out. What looks like semen drools out from the tip. He slaps his big, flaccid cock to Klaus's mouth and cheek, signaling the teenage boy's attention. Klaus opens up, licking up the veined shaft, sucking and hollowing his cheeks.

The man throws one of the pill-baggies onto Klaus's desk, after yanking on his jeans. "_Where's the rest?_" Video!Klaus says after a long, doubtful moment, furrowing his brows.

"_Be a better lay next tim_—"

Sir Reginald pauses the tape, calmly rotating a dial.

Ben's ears ring loudly in the abrupt silence. Luther looks stunned and pinch-faced, gazing at their father. Diego swallows down the bile in his throat, scrubbing a hand frantically over his mouth. Allison cries quietly to herself, and Vanya flushes a mortifying shade of red, gnawing on her lower lip.

"Number Four," he orders.

Klaus doesn't uncurl himself at first, still quivering so hard, both of his hands tightly clamped over his ears. Sir Reginald calls to him again, softer but so _sure_ of his decision. Ben watches as the other teenager gets up, eyes and head lowered in defeat and his shoulders slumped, walking forward.

"Remove your clothing," Sir Reginald tells him, as soon as Klaus wordlessly joins his side. He doesn't move. The cane in Sir Reginald's grip lifts, smacking lightly against Klaus's temple. "_Now_."

Ben's heart races.

Off comes the Umbrella Academy blazer and white button-up, as well as Klaus's uniform-socks and loafers. He tries to interpret Klaus's expression but it's _flat_. Deadened. He doubts anyone has ever seen him like this.

"Allowing someone into our home _corrupts_ your mind and body," Sir Reginald says curtly, grabbing one of Klaus's arms and presenting it out to the other teens. Weirdly enough, there's no needle-marks to be seen. Their father shoves Klaus ahead, parading him. "I will not allow a _whore_ to despoil our good name."

It's not a request. He stares them all down until they murmur collectively in agreement.

Klaus continues looking ahead, bare-ass naked, jaw set.

Sir Reginald nods, apparently satisfied by his lesson, and then marches out. Leaving them to talk amongst themselves. But nobody does. Some of them look away purposely and others don't.

What feels like an ice-cold presence fills the monitoring room. Klaus's breathing goes heavy, more noticeable. Quickening.

"Klaus?" Vanya asks timidly. She gapes as his eyes roll towards the back of his skull, revealing the whites.

Instead of fainting, Klaus's body _rises_, inch by inch.

Deep and reverberating voices surround all of them, whisper-mumbling, _howling_ as if from a distance. Not in a language that Ben recognizes. A surge of vividly blue energy emits from Klaus's palms and fingertips.

"_KLAUS_!"

Ben takes hold of his upper arms, yelling his name, and Klaus's head snaps forward. He cries out, _frightened_, blinking rapidly, dropping onto his hands and knees with enough force to scrape them. Allison grabs onto Klaus's blazer, draping it over his exposed back. She wraps an arm around his shoulders comfortingly as Ben kneels with her, Luther and Diego hustling for the rest of his clothes. Vanya looks away out of modesty.

They'll say nothing about this for the rest of their lives. It's the only way to _forget_.

**.**

**.**

Rain patters down the pink, decorative umbrella over Klaus's head. He's nearly thirty. Ben finds it _odd_ that he is also aging along with Klaus, despite apparently being dead - but bigger questions need answering. He leaves Klaus after thr funeral memorial ends, giving him some privacy.

Klaus's cigarette smashes into Sir Reginald's ashes. He gives a cheerful, smiling hum, pulling down the front of Allison's old skirt to free his dick and taking a leak. Klaus sighs out blissfully.

"How's it feel, old man?" he whispers, arranging himself. "Getting pissed on by a _druggie_…"

Klaus's smile creeps into the barest hints of a nasty, dark leer.

"… _WHORE_ … …"

And, of course, there's no answer. At this point, he only wants to see his father's ghost just to feel vindicated, to know if Sir Reginald was aware of what remains of him has been desecrated. All in good time, Klaus guesses, shrugging to himself and twirling his umbrella one-handed.

**.**

**.**

* * *

_TUA isn't mine. Klaus is not getting a break in my fics. WE LOVE ANGST AND WHUMP IN THIS HOUSEHOLD. I wanna take a moment and genuinely thank everyone who has commented on my fics so far,,,, yall are amazing and I'm so full of love. Thank you. We got another prompt "Klaus/Other - humiliation, forced voyeurism" and it's a harder one to swallow. Fair warning. I'll take any comments/thoughts you have and I appreciate the read! Have a nice weekend!  
_


End file.
